Ten Songs
by ShonenAiSorcerer
Summary: Weiss goes to karaoke, but there's no so much singing as smut. Mostly Yohji/Aya with a few bonus moments. In progress.
1. Track One: Walk This Way

Disclaimer: I own nothing; neither anime characters nor songs mentioned herein belong to me or make me any money.

* * *

Notes from the Miko: I was reading a lovely karaoke fic when it hit me: it doesn't seem so realistic that Aya and Yohji would, even when drunk, spontaneously jump on stage and declare their love for each other through song. Hm, I thought, what would really happen, perhaps I can be the one to write a realistic, karaoke-based fic—no chance.

This is SMUT.

Warnings include: PWP, public displays of affection, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption by minors, a bit of cross-dressing, original characters, drunk Aya, gender play (only w/ OCs), handjob, oral, fingering, tiniest bit of come play, yaoi, yuri, bad language, and ten other offensive things I forgot to mention – but any actual sex? What kind of pervert do you think I am? Hehe.

Now, I make no apologies for the man-porn you are about to receive, but a note on the original characters if you will. I normally don't go in for OCs (unless I intend to kill them off quickly and painfully) but a few snuck in here to help the numbers (no self-insertion; I vehemently oppose those because, really, what fangirl wouldn't spend the whole fic humping Yohji's leg, ne? Not helpful.). I was gonna add Schwartz, but at that point I was still thinking "original karaoke fic" and not "smutfest." And, uh, about the yuri . . . gomen nasai! I quarantined it to a single chapter, labeled it properly, and made it easy to skip at your discretion; there's no plot anyway…

Okay, no more intro notes for the rest of the fic! It's completely written, so if there's enough interest, I'll revise and post fairly quickly for you guys. Thanks for reading!

P.S. Yes, having been to karaoke in Japan, I am aware that normal Japanese do not make a habit of having sex in karaoke rooms. But pretty boys do, so let's just all pretend and enjoy the senseless porn, okay?

* * *

Ten Songs About Sex

Track One: Walk This Way

* * *

"Yohji, no."

"Come on, man! Everybody's doing it."

Omi rolled his eyes at Yohji's poor imitation of a pusher, deciding to step in before the older man completely ruined their chances.

"It'll be fun, Aya-kun," he smiled.

"And you can just sit and watch if you want," Ken added.

Aya felt it distinctly; he was being ganged up on. Sitting warily on the couch, he glanced at his teammates. Ken was pulling on his leather jacket, getting his arm stuck in the process and turning around himself in an attempt to fix it, looking too much like a puppy chasing its tail. Omi, now looking at Ken, was using guilt; Omi was especially good at the guilt, coupling it with that wide-eyed, innocent expression. And then Yohji; he looked about as innocent as a rattlesnake. When he caught Aya's gaze, he winked. Aya looked away quickly and tried to formulate a response.

Three sets of eyes weighed on him heavily, expectant.

"I'll go."

"Yes!" Omi cried, catching himself just before he hugged the man.

"I'm not singing."

~*~

Aya was going to kill Yohji. He wasn't sure how it was going to happen, but it would happen. The blonde simply had too much of a hold over his life, and, even though Aya had given no outward sign, he had a more than a sneaking suspicion that the other man knew it too.

First, he'd been dragged out…here. He was fairly sure that was Yohji's doing; his response certainly sprang from Yohji's presence in the plot as he denied Omi and Ken on a regular basis. Second, he was wearing…this. He cursed himself silently for letting Yohji not only dig around in his closet, but practically dress him; the blonde had to be physically run out of his room after he had laid Aya's clothes out. Third, he made Aya feel…no, he wasn't going to go over that again.

Shoving the thought aside, he stepped out of the Seven and stared at the place that would be his doom, or at least that of his dignity.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: Review to get the smut. What? Expecting someone else? No, no, this is my fic now . . .


	2. Track Two: Crazy Bitch

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Two: Crazy Bitch

* * *

Yohji was practically giddy. He was doing his best to play it cool, catching only sidelong glances at the redhead beside him. He'd done it; he'd gotten Aya out. Of course, it wasn't the romantic out or even the dress in leather and rub up against each other out, but it still counted. It counted because there was Aya, his hair deep red under the street lamp as he cautiously eyed the building. His long, leather trench coat was synched tightly about his waist, but Yohji smiled at the thought of the carefully matched pieces beneath. Sure, it wasn't a vinyl catsuit, but it wasn't an orange sweater either.

Now that he had got Aya out, Yohji was determined to do the most devious thing ever: he was going to make the swordsman have fun. Whether or not that fun involved some friendly groping of his comrade was yet to be determined. He had to get Aya out of the coat, get him well on the way to wasted, and then, well, then he'd see about the groping.

Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he crushed it against the dark pavement and followed Omi inside, casting more than one look back to make sure Aya was still following.

~*~

Yohji stood to the side, holding the coat he had quickly shed once encountering the warmth of the building. He felt the glances and covert stares of passing girls, turning to cast a few flirting winks on the cutest ones that appeared over eighteen; Yohji liked to be looked at, and he knew his ass looked fantastic in the stonewashed jeans. Ken called them indecent, but with the right top (this time a tight, indigo tee with an English word scrawled in metallic blue across the chest) it was enticing. Casual, but hot. The stares confirmed this.

Soon, though, he was forced to pay attention to a developing situation that had not been in his plans; this, which might compromise his tentative intents for Aya, did not make him a happy camper.

Said Aya was just beside him, and the blonde felt they were thinking along the same wavelength.

Deciding unilaterally that karaoke could not be thoroughly enjoyed with only four people, Omi had decided to invite his friend, Kyoko. Yohji had a few doubts as to the nature of Omi's relationship with the short, round-faced girl, and in all honesty, he hoped the kiddo was screwing her because it was not worth it otherwise. Kyoko was one of those _happy_ girls, all the time, from the top of her brunette pigtails (tied in pink ribbons) to the bottom of her white tennis shoes (with matching pink laces). And she talked. A lot.

Yohji was himself a talker by nature, but, damn, he did know when to shut up.

Currently she was engaged in a pointless conversation about the validity of television censorship.

Yohji decided she probably wasn't sleeping with the chibi; she was too much of a prude.

Having lost even Omi about five minutes in to her tirade, Kyoko had managed to corner another of the, as far as Yohji was concerned, unnecessary guests: Traci. This was Ken's babe of the moment. They were definitely screwing. Surprisingly, she didn't have big thighs or man shoulders. She was tall, but not really athletic looking, still pretty. Yohji gave her a six out of ten, points being awarded for her curling blonde hair and turquoise eyes (bleached and contacts, he was fairly sure), but he deducted points for her loud voice and tacky orange blouse.

Then there was Minako. Minako was…different.

Apparently she was Traci's friend or something. He hadn't really been listening during the introductions since Aya had been studying a poster and Yohji had felt obligated to study his ass in turn.

Minako seemed quiet, but she watched them all intently from underneath her heavy black bangs. Yohji quickly put her into the "eccentric" category, based on her jean jacket with its mix of political and anime pins and her ways of saying strange things that made sense only about half the time. Either she was crazy or there was an inside joke that the rest of them weren't getting. Yohji couldn't get beyond the personality to even consider that she might be pretty, but one might have noted her flawless, pale skin and slim figure, maybe even the depth in her dark eyes. But she smiled in a way that made you want to take a step back.

Yohji bet she would be a kinky bitch in about three more years.

Still, he was not appreciative of the company in the least, and he hesitantly looked around for the forth female that might even out their little group and suggest and even demand heterosexual pairings should the drinking commence in any serious way.

Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any more surprises with breasts. Not that he didn't like breasts, but that wasn't really the point.

Omi went to get them a room, to sing in, of course.

"Hey, Aya, aren't you hot in that coat?"

"Hn."

~*~

Aya surveyed the small space. It was a simple rectangular room, one exit, no windows to provide alternative escape routes. Ceilings were tiled, possibly one could punch them out in order to—

Yohji's nudged his arm, "Relax."

Aya took a breath and, with difficulty, looked at the room again. At one of the short ends was a long couch-like seat, black and smooth and running the length of the wall, curling around to fit in the corners and accommodate two tables with space in between. A few chairs were scattered throughout. On the other side was the small raised platform, carpeted with two steps leading up to the stage area that sat not quite two feet above the floor. Behind this was a screen, and in front the smaller prompter.

Omi was already dragging out microphone, and Aya decided the best course of action would be to claim the strategically most inconspicuous seat. So he sat in the darker corner, stiff against the plush seating, and tried to defend himself as Yohji tugged at his coat sleeve.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: Hurry and review so we can get to the fun stuff.


	3. Track Three: More, More, More

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Three: More, More, More

* * *

Yes! Yohji nearly jumped the waitress. He couldn't help it; she was carrying booze.

Delivering a round of melon sodas to the chibi and his noisy gal pal, currently leaned over the song book, the waitress smiled to reveal a row of metal braces; Ken took his beer off her tray along with some frozen concoction with a giant strawberry presumably for Traci. Yohji blinked as Minako received what looked like a shot of hard liquor but lost interest instantaneously at the immediate prospect of accepting his own and Aya's drinks.

He had planned it well in advance. No frills, no garnishes, no complex layers of color: rum and coke. Simple.

Still, Aya was staring at the soda glass warily; he missed Yohji's ordering in his overly intense study of their destination. Having finally taken off his coat to prevent the blonde from tearing it off, he garnered another sweep of green eyes; it may not have been latex, but dark, form fitting, low cut jeans did him justice, made, apparently, more appropriate by the fitted, button down shirt. Yohji had been reluctant to agree, but he had already been treading on thin, cracking ice, and the royal blue silk did suit the swordsman. Maybe he could get Aya to give up more than one button at the collar. Alcohol should do it.

"Well?" Yohji prompted, motioning to the glass.

"What's in it?"

"Suspicious! Just drink it."

He didn't think Aya would do it, but when Kyoko took the stage to do her hesitating rendition of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," the redhead seemed much more motivated.

~*~

He accepted the second glass but sipped at it cautiously. Despite what the others seemed to think, Aya was not a stranger to alcohol, or, shock at it seemed to be, even having fun. In the case of the latter, it has just been a while. Even he had to admit, reluctantly, that having Takatori dead and Aya-chan awake and flourishing did release him to reclaim a stunted portion of his life. However, he had purposefully amputated this part of himself in the years before in order to be efficient; he had stubbornly ignored the phantom itch of inclination, pushed it down for so long that it was difficult, painfully awkward to use it again. And their surprise didn't help either. They gasped and whispered like schoolgirls every time he smiled.

As for the alcohol, he had more recent experience there. However, when Aya drank it was in one of two ways: he had very little with complete strangers or very much alone. He knew his own tendency to lose count after four shots of whiskey as well as the more, well, annoying habits he demonstrated when intoxicated. It wasn't becoming, and it wasn't professional.

~*~

Omi and Kyoko had efficiently booted Ken off the small stage and were performing a duet about unrequited love, though the bright smiles on their faces made it seem completely unconvincing.

Yohji ordered another round for the two of them, discreetly asking the waitress to make it a double. As she left, he tipped up his glass and emptied it. That was his third, but the quiet man beside him was only halfway through his second. Hell, Minako had taken down twice that much. The redhead took another small sip, setting the glass on the table in front of them and running a finger idly around the rim.

"Aya, don't play with it, drink it."

There was some initial surprise at his attention, a little aggravation at his comment. Yohji, however, kept his gaze in place and was pleased to see Aya finish the rum and coke. In a matter of minutes another was placed before him. He pushed it away a little.

"Drink," Yohji said, lifting his new glass in example.

Aya glared, clearly informing the blonde that he did not have to if he decided not to.

"Come on," he prodded, his voice audible to Aya but lost to the rest of the room under the rising beat of the music and accompanying voices. Yohji liked it; it gave him an excuse to slide a bit closer, to talk into Aya's ear and lay a hand, just briefly, on the other's knee. "We're having a good time, right?"

Then Aya's voice was in his own ear, and he took a deep breath while the other leaned close, breathing in the smell of Aya's spicy cologne. He missed exactly what the redhead told him, but it was something along the lines of not consuming the alcohol.

"Why not?"

"I'll bother you if I'm drunk."

"You bother me most of the time. Drink up!"

Determined not to be frightened by the glare leveled at him, Yohji tried to soften the comment with a smile.

"C'mon, Aya. I got your back, right? I'll take care of you. Hell, I carry you home if I have to."

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: *winks and gestures to the review button, leaving you a bit unsure what precisely he wants*


	4. Track Four: Like A Virgin

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Four: Like a Virgin

* * *

Aya knew he was playing right into Yohji's hands, but found that he really didn't mind it. He wasn't oblivious; he had seen the long looks, noticed the tell-tale kindnesses of little deeds, and, most recently, felt the warm hand that only feigned thoughtlessness when it settled on his knee.

That Yohji Kudou liked him was no great secret to Aya, nor was he alien to the fact that he harbored a fascination for the blonde. Well, fascination was at least the word he chose to apply to his feelings.

Aya was not a coward. However, declaring his longings to the playboy across the hall did not seem to be a smart decision. That would put him in a position of vulnerability, and he felt that keenly enough as it was. There was, of course, the option of throwing Yohji down on the couch and screwing the life out of him. That often seemed like an excellent plan, but what would he say afterwards? If Yohji got up and left without a word, if he, as he most likely would, smiled that sideways, sloppy smile and went on as if nothing had happened, then Aya might hurt, and if he hurt, then he'd know, as he already suspected, that fascination was not the right word for how he felt about Yohji.

It was a difficult line to cross. So they stood, one on either side, trembling with tension and trying not to let it show.

Aya had given a little when he agreed to go out, and now, as he downed his forth drink and felt the warm feeling in his belly with satisfaction and desire for more, he felt his stance giving way.

Yohji was on the stage, shaking his ass dramatically as he proclaimed he was too sexy for his shirt.

~*~

"Put your shirt back on," Aya instructed as the blonde plopped down next to him, smiling and not really expecting a compliment on his wonderful performance.

"Anything you want, Ayan," he sighed, tugging the cloth back over his head and shaking out his hair. "_Anything_."

~*~

Well, Aya was not going to rise to that bait. He wondered, briefly, though, what Yohji would do if he demanded a blowjob in the bathroom. Then he realized that he had probably had enough to drink.

~*~

"Wanna sing with me, Ayan?"

"No."

"Then you better have another drink." Yohji passed his own half-full glass over to the redhead, giving only a vague smile when it was taken without question. Aya took a drink and passed it back. Yohji then lifted the clear glass to his own lips and finished it; the glass clicked against the table and he looked back to Aya with a tiny smirk as he touched the rim of the glass, "Second hand kiss, right?"

The flush on his cheeks as absolutely amazing.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: *sits and stares at you intensely*


	5. Track Five: Sexy Can I

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Five: Sexy Can I

* * *

He felt himself smiling before he could stop it, and as much as he wanted to yell at Yohji to stop being so damned smug about it, the blonde's look melted into a wide grin that was too honest to argue with. Carefully, having to concentrate to make his hands do as he ordered, Aya lifted the sunglasses from his own face and handed them back to his friend.

"Cute. Very cute," Yohji commented. And Aya didn't want to hit him.

~*~

"Omi," Aya hissed in his ear. The redhead had crawled along the bench and was leaning close to him, one hand catching his shirt sleeve as he tried to balance on his knees on the seat beside the younger boy. "Gi'me your socks."

He could smell the alcohol on the man's breath, but the fake stealth of the request made him laugh. Kyoko giggled on the other side of him.

"Do it, Omi," she poked his leg with one brightly painted nail. Aya's eyes drifted to her, widening just a little.

"Can I have your ribbon?"

"Well, I think it will clash with your hair," she commented, already untying one of the pink bows, "but here."

He nodded in thanks and stared insistently at Omi's socks. The blonde shrugged, toed off his shoes, and handed over the items of interest which were quickly taken back to Aya and Yohji's dark corner to be used in questionable ways.

Omi wondered if he could ask Kyoko for her shirt, but he was instantly done one better as Yohji yelled over:

"Kyoko-chan, can I borrow your bra?"

Without missing a beat, she replied, "It's not your size!"

~*~

Maybe not such a prude, Yohji decided. Of course, three margaritas could make anyone that size loosen up. He'd seen the chibis sneaking them earlier, but who was he to ruin adolescent fun? The responsible adult role never really appealed to him anyway; he preferred immature troublemaker.

Currently, this was of little matter as Aya was trying to shove Omi's balled up socks down his shirt.

Yohji was wearing a bra; it ought to have bothered him, but if it got Aya's hands down his shirt, he'd wear a corset and pantaloons.

"Hold still," Aya demanded when Yohji jumped in response to an inadvertent brush of his nipple.

~*~

"My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps!" Yohji stroked and jiggled his fake breasts as he flounced around the stage. Kyoko's bow hung loosely from the side of his hair.

Ken, Traci's orange blouse stretched tightly over his arms and chest, turned his butt to the audience and tried to bounce it, "What're gonna do with all that breast, all that breast inside that shirt?"

"I'm gonna make you, make you work. Make you work, work, make you work."

Yohji brushed his pseudo-breasts against Ken's.

"I love lesbians," Minako leaned over to inform Kyoko.

The younger girl nodded, slowly.

~*~

Yohji could feel the calluses on Aya's fingertips as they ran up his sides, slowly pushing up the fabric of his shirt. It was lifted over his head, and Aya leaned close, pressing them together as he wound his hands behind Yohji's back.

There was an Aya in his lap, and Yohji didn't dare move. Instead, he placed his hands on Aya's back, temptingly close to his bottom and pulled him in closer, allowing the younger man to straddle his upper thighs as he reached to undo Yohji's bra. Hm, he had never been on this side of the situation. It ought to have funny that Aya was having trouble with the clasp, pressing himself inadvertently closer as he tried to look over Yohji's shoulder, both hands working on the piece of fabric. It should have been hilarious, but Yohji was lost in the weight of Aya over his pelvis, the brush of Aya's silk shirt against his bare stomach, and the soft feel of red hair as it swept against his cheek.

If he got hard right now, Aya was going to kill him. Yohji tried to think unsexy thoughts, but somewhere between Ken's sweat socks and dust bunnies he thought of Aya's sword and, with a slight slip of meanings, lost the battle completely.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: *imitates a famous actor* Do you have any tattoos, readers?

Miko: Don't make me get the newspaper.

Evil Hentai Slug: *continues to leer at readers and gestures conspiratorially to the review button as if to suggest you'll talk there later*


	6. Track Six: Cherry Pie

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Six: Cherry Pie

* * *

He was on Yohji's lap. Aya felt a strange desire to laugh and suppressed it harshly. There was no time for that.

There, the bra was off.

Now, he had to get himself out of this situation, quickly, before he did something foolish.

~*~

Hot damn.

~*~

Well, he'd crossed the line of foolish, gone straight by idiotic, and landed somewhere near insane. Having been there before, Aya knew the territory.

He had meant to draw away. He set one foot shakily on the ground, ready to remove himself from Yohji's lap, wondering what had possessed him to climb up there in the first place, but his balance was off. Meaning to bring his head from its place over Yohji's shoulder, he'd managed to bump his nose against the blonde's cheek; Yohji had turned, just a little, and then, but some mutual indecision, their lips met. There was no gentle brushing, no tentative requests for permission; their lips came together hungrily, already parted for tongues to meet inside.

Yohji's strong hand grasped his thigh again, dragging the one escaping leg back up to resettle him across the older man's lap, remaining there to massage the sensitive place just below his butt. He felt a little sound escape him as he was able to press closer to Yohji's bare chest, hands living out a fantasy as they were buried deep in honey locks, tangling in the long strands to keep them together. Not that Yohji was trying to go anywhere.

~*~

It was two in the morning and Ken was drunk, but he suddenly realized he was way behind compared to those two.

Well, hell, if they were just gonna make out over there, then he ought to be able to make out with Traci over here. Reaching out a hand, he settled it on her thigh, just below them hem of her short white skirt.

"Not now," she shoved at the offending appendage, "Minako and I are up next."

Cursing his luck, Ken ordered another beer.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: *appears in his sexy bishounen form [think Yuki from Gravitation with more muscles and wearing only a pair of skintight brown suede pants]* Yo. Whatever could you want, reader? Hm . . . a naked pretty boy perhaps? I think we could work something out if you'll just—

Miko: *rushes out with rolled up newspaper* No, bad slug! Don't sexually harass the reader! *bops slug on the head* Excuse him, please. Review anyway? *to slug* See if I let you out again!


	7. Track Seven: Pour Some Sugar on Me

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Seven: Pour Some Sugar on Me

* * *

"Oh, fuck," he mumbled against Aya's neck, instantly going back to suck at the place right above the hollow of the swordsman's clavicle. Aya moaned again, trying to bury the sound with the back of his hand; Yohji could still feel the other wrapped tightly in his hair. He bit down.

"Yes," Aya gasped; the fingers in his hair tightened, so he did it again, working the area until he knew there would be a bruise, drawing those fantastic, half-hidden sounds from the redhead.

"Aya," he whispered in the other's ear, waiting a moment, letting Aya get his breath and nod in acknowledgement of his attention. "I'm so fucking hard, Aya." To emphasize the point, he plucked Aya's hand from his the back of the seat and pressed the swordsman's palm to his crotch, asking him to feel the stiff ridge in his jeans. Aya obeyed, leaning in to kiss Yohji's lips as he moved his hand up and down over the bulge.

His hips moved of their own accord, lifting towards Aya's hand, making him work to maintain his balance; hair was released as he slung his left arm around Yohji's neck, keeping himself close as he persisted in rubbing Yohji through the pants. The zipper was digging in to the blonde's sensitive member, but the flushed, involved look Aya was giving his crotch as he clung to him and touched him, fucking there for fuck's sake, made the slight discomfort seem miles away. Yohji reached out to reciprocate, cupping Aya through his pants; the redhead paused, catching his lower lip with his teeth to stifle a moan, and looking so damn hot that Yohji thought for an embarrassing second that he might come right there in his pants.

He had to lift Aya's hand away, though his dick complained vehemently, straining against its tight prison. Aya was watching him avidly, and Yohji couldn't resist. He brought the hand to his lips, slipping them down around Aya's ring finger, sucking it into the warm, wet hole of his mouth, running his tongue up the length, slowly sliding along soft skin and rougher, sword-worn calluses; with an expert flick of his hips, he brought their erections together. The finger was jerked back, its knuckle pressed tightly against Aya's mouth as he trembled against Yohji, fighting the same battle as the blonde.

~*~

Sitting close to the table, Minako watched them from underneath the heavy fall of her bangs. The redhead was holding tightly to the blonde as they kissed, desperately but perfectly. She wondered how long they would be content with just kissing, and the answer was soon obvious as the blonde took the other's hand and put it right where he wanted it.

Never losing sight of pleasure-glazed eyes, Minako slid her hand up her inner thigh, under the hem of her pleated skirt. As the blonde rasped out some explicative of pleasure, she pressed the edge of her hand against the crotch of her purple panties, shifting her hips against the delicious, damp friction.

Kyoko was watching her face from across the room, and Minako offered her a little smile before returning to the show.

~*~

"…get out of here."

Aya caught the last part of the message, just audible over Traci and Ken's rendition of Hikaru Utada's "First Love." He was sure that he couldn't stop and glad that whatever was going to happen wouldn't be seen by everyone in the room.

"Aya?"

He remembered to nod, signaling he had heard. Yohji chuckled, tugged his wrinkled shirt back on, and set him gently on his feet as he stood up. Aya swayed dangerously, but Yohji's strong arm was around his waist, steadying him and pulling him back into that enticing warmth. They bumped, erection to hip, and Aya pressed into Yohji's shoulder, unsteady, slightly embarrassed of the sounds he was making, and aware that he should not be drawing attention to himself.

"Let's go," he stated as calmly as possible. It took an effort to uncoil his fingers from Yohji's shirt. He took a step back and turned towards the door, intending to leave the room of his own power, but the alcohol rushed to his head. The room tilted, but strong hands caught him under the arms, and Yohji's warm body pressed up against him; he was vaguely thankful to the blonde for not letting him fall on his ass, but his mind was intensely focused on the fact that Yohji's hardon was pressed against that same part of his anatomy. Closing his eyes, he willed himself into some semblance of self-control and tried again.

~*~

Shit, he just about lost it when Aya fell back against him. His cock was already sensitive, begging, and it responded too well to the pressure of the redhead's ass. Yohji was simultaneously relieved and distraught when Aya righted himself and pulled unsteadily away. He knew just two or three strokes, hell, a half minute of dry humping that perfect ass, would send him over the edge.

Breathe. That's what he had to do.

And walk.

And not come in his pants.

That was asking a whole hell of a lot, but Yohji pressed his teeth together and followed Aya who was trying to navigate between scattered chairs and people, listing a little, as he made his imperfect escape from the room. He got a firm hold on the door handle, and for a second, Yohji thought he couldn't get it open. But then Aya looked around, making sure Yohji was following.

Yohji answered the silent question with a smile.

Fuck, yes.

~tbc~

* * *

Miko: *sitting in a dark corner slowly unraveling a suspiciously orange sweater in what appears to be a nervous gesture*

Evil Hentai Slug: *enters in all his evil, hentai glory* See, you're hopeless without me.

Miko: *points to a crumpled stack of paper next to her*

Evil Hentai Slug: That? They won't mind that. Slap a warning on it and get a move on! We've got dressers to raid and boxers to steal!

Miko: *looks pitiful and points to her 'official yaoi writer badge' which has the officially obscene seal of yaoi approval on it*

Evil Hentai Slug: I see . . . *pauses and appears deep in thought as if preparing to solve all their problems* Well! *snatches yuri chapter of the fic and runs off to posit it, anxious to conduct his extensive all-male panty raid of the Koneko*

Miko: *uses the remains of sweater to cover her head and debates if she can use the yuri portion of the fic to barter for sanctuary within a nomadic herd of fanboys*

Generic Voiceover Guy (named Jim): Please review…


	8. Track Eight: Pink

This chapter contains **YURI** of a graphic, sexual nature. Also contains gender play if that bothers you.

Summary: Traci shuns Ken, the girls do it, Omi has a nosebleed – you may proceed to chapter Nine where yaoi hotness resumes!

* * *

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Eight: Pink

* * *

The last guitar riffs faded, and Traci lowered her microphone. Beside her, Ken seemed frozen, mike half lifted, staring. She followed his gaze just in time to see his two friends slip out the door. Well, it didn't take a genius to figure out where they were going. Shameless. Completely shameless, making out like that in public. What people did behind closed doors was their own business, but Traci felt, adamantly, that she ought to be shielded from such displays.

And Ken, the idiot, had been staring the whole time.

Grabbing his arm, she shocked him back into reality and drug him off stage, handing his mike over to the waiting Omi before they returned to their seats.

Ken was flushed. She could feel the heat of his body as he leaned close, and it disgusted her because she hadn't been the cause of it.

"Hey," he whispered in her ear. Close. Too close. His hand was back on her leg. "You wanna get outta here?"

"What?"

"We could, you know, go to the bathroom or…"

"Ken Hidaka, if you think I'm going to blow you in a public restroom, then you have severely misconceived the type of woman that I am."

"Traci!"

It was behind her as she grabbed her purse and stomped from the room. He would have to chase her down, then maybe she would speak to the moron. God, her idiot was so high-maintenance.

She might leave, just to teach him a lesson.

~*~

Kyoko smiled a little as Omi hesitantly took the stage. The room seemed to be clearing out fast. That didn't usually happen with karaoke, well, not all the time. Still, putting four pretty boys in one room with liquor was bound to have consequences.

She liked Omi well enough, and after her third drink, she had briefly entertained thoughts of letting him kiss her. But he just looked so innocent, standing there in the spotlight, flipping through the song book. No, Omi wasn't going to be able to show her the ropes. She'd known that, before the alcohol.

There had been a moment, too, in the lobby when Kyoko's gaze had fallen on the tall blonde. Something in his smile said he'd been around and, apparently, was taking offers as they came. But, that hadn't worked either. He'd latched onto the redhead, Aya, from the get-go, poking drinks at him and then dragging him out the door.

A little sigh escaped her. She wanted that kind of passion.

This is why Kyoko hated being quiet; it gave her time to think, and thinking made her sad.

"Hey."

There was another person by her. She looked up to see Minako, dark eyes shining under her heavy bangs as she sat sideways on the wide bench, facing Kyoko, legs tucked under her to she could lean in to talk.

"Hey," Kyoko replied, wondering why the other girl was so close to her.

"So, did you see it?" Her voice was a whisper, rough in Kyoko's ear.

"Huh?"

"The show. The boys."

"Ah. Yeah."

"They were into it."

"Yeah," she nodded a little, eyes focused on Omi as Minako leaned just a little closer.

"Red's a beauty. Pretty." Her soft fingers ghosted down Kyoko's arm. "Exotic. But the blonde, he's a slut."

Kyoko's breath caught; she swallowed hard and heard Minako's low laugh.

"You like him?"

"N-no."

"Oh?" She tilted her head a bit as the brunette turned to face her. "Are you sure? You wouldn't want him? Just looking at him," she let out a quiet moan from the back of her throat, almost a purr. "You know he can fuck."

The last work made Kyoko gasp again, but she didn't shy away from Minako's hand when it came to rest on her flat stomach.

"Can I kiss you?" The request was already warm on her lips, and Kyoko assented without saying a word, leaning in to the kiss as Minako pressed her back onto the bench. She leaned over the younger girl, bringing their bodies close as their tongues met.

Kyoko didn't know what to do.

Drawing back, Minako propped herself up with her left arm, setting her right hand free to brush down Kyoko's side. The girl shivered when Minako cupped her right breast, bare beneath the thin, pink t-shirt. She knew her boobs weren't as big as other girls', and a flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks.

"They're nice," Minako sounded serious, and when Kyoko drug her eyes back, there was no empty flattery in the other's. "I don't like big boobs."

"No?"

"No." She leaned down, and Kyoko didn't know what she was about until she felt the wetness of her mouth on her chest as Minako tongued her hard nipple through the shirt.

"Oh. Stop. Stop—"

Minako retreated, an inch or so, at Kyoko's push.

"What's wrong?"

"This! And…and, Omi's looking!"

"So?"

"Well…"

"Aren't you turned on? Didn't it make you hot, watching them rub up against each other, fuck each other's mouths? Oh," her hips thrust forward, pressing against Kyoko's thigh. "I love it. I'm so fucking wet."

"I…I…"

"You don't have to want me," she smiled. "You can think about them. I will."

Then Minako's lips were on her, on her neck and chest and stomach. Her body trembled, excited by the press of the girl's weight and the touches that sparked new parts of her into vivid sensitivity. She felt her shirt being lifted, bunching under her arms, baring her small breasts to the room. It was scary and erotic to be exposed, but the former was forgotten when soft lips and sharp teeth took turns at her nipples, causing her to arch up, searching for more satisfying contact.

She felt further denied when Minako leaned back. Struggling to get her shuddery breathing back under control, Kyoko forced her eyes open, half expecting the pale girl to be watching her. She wasn't. She was too busy shrugging out of her jean jacket, exposing thin shoulders which seemed more so in her white, spaghetti strap tank.

Kyoko realized she was pretty.

Then the pretty girl's hands were undoing her jeans, and Kyoko wondered what the heck she'd gotten herself into. Then, with the jeans tugged down around her thighs, she felt the press of Minako's hand between her legs, stroking her through her pink panties, finger shifting expertly to search out her inner lips and teasing it with indirect touches through the thin cotton.

She realized Minako was talking, continuously babbling, and, more importantly, had her other hand beneath her own skirt, mirroring her actions there.

"…the way they looked, flushed and so damn ready, ready to fuck right here on the goddamn floor. He would've taken Red, thrown him down and ridden him like…"

Oh, her fingers were ghosting under the elastic, dabbling in the wetness that threatened to embarrass Kyoko. But Minako wasn't paying any attention. She paused to yank down Kyoko's panties, but there was no comment, and the younger girl was grateful. Now, if she would only touch her—yes! The smooth pad of Minako's index finger slid slicky across her clit.

"Ah!"

"Yeah. Like that. Red's makin' those sounds right now." She hit the spot again, her own gasp simultaneous with Kyoko's. "Maybe Red's giving his lover a blow job." She paused for a second, eyes closed, and her hand slipped from under her skirt as her whole attention flicked back to the panting Kyoko. "You want me to suck you?"

"I…uh…huh…"

She leaned close, "Come on baby, let me suck your cock." Her hands were parting the moist lips of Kyoko's privates, looking, too close, searching, the younger thought, for something she couldn't find.

Kyoko was confused, but the half-hearted 'what' lost out to the bright burst of sensation when Minako's lips closed over her swollen clit. A hand pressed across her bare belly kept her from pushing up into the touch.

"You like that, baby?" The words were spoken against her, the motion of those lips brushing, teasing, before Minako closed them once more over her, creating a gentle suction which she alternated with slow laps of her tongue, flat and wide and textured.

Kyoko realized she was making noises, whining, high noises that didn't sound like her own. She barely had a chance to try to cut them off when Minako pulled away.

"Please," she asked without thinking. And when those brown eyes were back on her, "Don't stop."

"I'm not gonna stop. Don't worry, I won't leave you like this, all desperate and so goddamned hard."

Kyoko decided her brain had gone on vacation; there was nothing left for her to interpret with, but it felt good and she wanted it and no one else was going to give it to her.

"Sit up."

She did, Minako guiding, tugging her up so that her back was against the bench and her feet flat on the edge looking utterly disheveled. One of her pigtails had fallen down, and the loose hair stuck to her face and neck, clinging in the fine layer of sweat. Her jeans hung loose around her ankles, puddled around her white tennis shoes with their pink laces; her knees pointed upward, slightly spread. Minako caressed her smooth legs, palms running up, over her soft thighs, and back against her wetness.

"So hard…"

"Please."

"You know what they're doing, pretty? They're out there fucking, hard bodies rocking against each other, dicks out, begging to be touched…just like you. You want it?"

"Yes!" It didn't matter what it was.

"Red's gonna be bottom; Blonde will have to get him ready. You know about that?" There was no real pause for answer, and Kyoko couldn't have given one, not with those fingers touching her there. "Blonde's gotta get him ready, loosen him up so he'll fit. Oh, fuck, you don't need any lube, do you, baby?"

Kyoko almost made it to a response, but it transformed into a low moan when she felt the thin length of Minako's finger slip inside her.

"Fuck no, you don't. You're so tight." Gently she moved the digit in and out, the heel of her hand ghosting across Kyoko's clit every few moves. Then she added another. "They'll do this for a while," she leaned close to press her breasts against the other girl's, not quite meeting as she leaned in from the side, but enough to add to the electric tension growing in the pit of Kyoko's stomach. Minako kept talking in her confusing way, hand never leaving its work. "He'll finger him for a while, maybe rim him; he won't let him come, not yet, not yet—he'll keep it slick and cool until he finds red's sweet spot."

"Ah!"

"Got you, baby. Fuck yes."

"Again."

Minako smiled and kissed her. Her fingers began to move faster, pressing that something deep inside Kyoko that made her jump. It was a slow pressure now, building. It had never been this good by herself.

"Touch me," Minako demanded, but it was softened by "Please, I need it."

"I…" Oh, god, she couldn't catch her breath. "I don't…know what to do."

"Just touch."

She wanted to hesitate, but Minako's fingers were still in her, wonderfully foreign, so close to that spot but not moving into it. So she touched. Deliberately but without skill, she reached a hand under the other's pleated skirt, Her panties were wet, the cloth sticky against Kyoko's cupped palm. Minako ground against it.

"Yes, baby, rub it…oh…"

And the fingers moved again, matching the quick rhythm of Minako's thin hips.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, Red."

Something as wrong with that, but the touch was all right.

Kyoko knew it was going to happen, she just needed…something. "I…please…"

Minako's fingers slipped from her in a wet slide and went immediately to her clitoris, rubbing it in rough, tight circles. Kyoko cried out as she came, head thrown back and thighs clamping tight over Minako's hand as she shuddered with pulsing sensations.

Turning her head without raising it off the back of the bench, she watched Minako touch herself. On her knees, she leant forward, reaching under her skirt with a hand sticky with Kyoko's own wetness. Her face was turned down, hidden under her hair, moving in rhythm as she rocked forward on her fingers, still talking to herself.

"I got you baby. So tight, you know I'll fuck you good; your dick wants me bad. Oh, gonna come, Red. Yes!"

The last syllable was almost a hiss as her lithe body tensed, pressing almost painfully down on her hand.

Their breathing was the only sound in the room.

~*~

Omi wasn't sure how long he was going to have to hide in the men's room, but fifteen minutes didn't seem like long enough.

Carefully he lifted away the tissue.

Well, at least his nose had stopped bleeding.

~tbc~

Miko: *holding a box labeled 'flames for freezing criminals' and mumbling the entire time* Thank you for reading my second attempt at yuri, if you would be so kind to deposit your flames directly—

Evil Hentai Slug: In my pants!


	9. Track Nine: Velcro Fly

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Nine: Velcro Fly

* * *

Stumbling, they made it out into the cool air of early morning. Aya's wrist felt deceptively fragile under his hand as Yohji drug the swordsman towards the Seven, but he was anything but breakable when he turned, grabbed Yohji's shoulders, and shoved him up against the car's side.

Yohji's dick throbbed in his pants; he was painfully hard. He had no delusions of a long round of sex as Aya's fingers worked at the button of his pants. The redhead pulled the cloth apart, and Yohji's hissed as his cock sprang free into the cool air. Aya brushed the velveteen flesh, running his thumb over the head, gathering the clear precum. He lifted the digit to his own mouth, smearing Yohji's liquid across his bottom lip like some erotic gloss. It sent a shiver through the blonde, and, when Aya grabbed his hair to kiss him, he felt the corresponding shudder in the swordsman's frame as he sucked the precome from his lips, dick trapped between them, tight and leaking against Aya's shirt.

Aya pulled back, one arm braced against the car to steady him while he made space between them. Yohji arched against the car when Aya's hand grabbed his dick in earnest, firm around the base and twisting as it slid towards the tip. Yohji thrust his hips outward, the car supporting him as he pushed into those wonderful hands. His balls were tight and heavy and his whole body felt coiled between those long fingers.

Aya moved faster.

"Yohji—"

He didn't need any more words; his own name whispered in that low voice, rough with desire as it passed through Aya's swollen lips broke the tension, sharp pleasure scattering Yohji's mind in a thousand directions as his jism was forced suddenly from his body, landing over Aya's hand and shirt in long, white strands as he watched through a fog of euphoric sensation. Aya milked his cock until the last creamy drop slid out, then let his hand fall away and his head fall onto Yohji's heaving chest.

"God…that was…thank you."

With one hand still on the car for balance, Aya kept his head down, the only part of him now touching Yohji. Slipping his hands underneath Aya's bent head, the blonde tucked himself back into his pants before resting, taking the redhead by the waist.

"Hey," he whispered, unable to resist a kiss to Aya's soft hair, "you're not falling asleep on me, are you?"

A laugh, short but definite.

"No?"

"No. Just trying," a heavy breath.

"Trying not to hump my leg?"

"Hn."

"I won't mind, you know." Aya's legs were slightly spread to give him balance, and Yohji couldn't resist. He slipped his right leg in between Aya's, using his hold on the redhead's waist to pull him close, dragging his hard length along Yohji's thigh and making him gasp. He clutched at Yohji's shoulders as the older man rocked them together, keeping contact with Aya's hardness as his hands slipped up under his shirt to skim hot flesh.

"I want to suck you," he whispered into Aya's ear, intimate and direct, precipitating a trembling shiver as he tugged Aya's earring gently with his teeth. "Let me, Aya."

A nod against his chest.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: Ah, reader, I've got you in my evil clutches. Review, or shall I get the whip?


	10. Track Ten: Paradise by the Dashboard Lig

Ten Songs About Sex

Track Ten: Paradise by the Dashboard Light

* * *

Reaching behind him, Yohji hooked his fingers into the handle and pulled open the passenger side door. He slipped his arm further around Aya's waist, guiding him as they turned, and depositing him, slightly confused, into the seat. His legs, encased in the fitted jeans, hung out the door, knees bent, and booted feet flat on the damp pavement.

It was here that Yohji knelt, hands on Aya's inner thighs as he surged up to kiss the redhead, pleased to feel Aya press against him, desperate for contact. Yohji let one hand drift to his crotch, giving him purchase as he moved to lick the soft sheen of sweat from the pale neck. He paused at the spot that had provoked a reaction before, biting down; Aya jumped, hands instantly in Yohji's hair, and he bit again, hard, feeling the cock jerk beneath his palm and the fingers tug sharply at his hair.

"Please," Aya moaned, leaning over him, half shielding himself but holding tight to the other.

"Not yet. I gotta taste you."

He slipped downward, ignoring the uncomfortable bite of the small rocks under his knees. Aya leaned back to let him undo his fly, lifting his hips as Yohji tugged the jeans down around his knees, letting them fall to his ankles to reveal shapely legs and, at their juncture, his cock, flushed pink and straining. Aya moaned as Yohji wrapped his fingers around the base, clutching the edge of the leather seat as the blonde lowered his mouth. He paused, just above it, to flick his tongue over the sensitive slit.

"Don't," Aya breathed, shaking his head. Yohji got it. It wasn't the time to tease.

Dropping the smile from his lips, Yohji wrapped them around the head of Aya's circumcised cock, sucking gently there before he bent lower to take it in. Aya gasped, hands instantly back in Yohji's blond locks, not pressing, just holding on as Yohji moved. He wished for time to display the full range of his skill, prayed for time later, but accepted there wasn't time now and focused on giving Aya the fantastic sensations of wet mouth and textured tongue, with just a hint of sharp teeth running up the shaft.

Then Aya whimpered, a sound that threatened to stir Yohji's flaccid dick despite the fact that he was drunk and had just had one of the best orgasms of his fucking life.

Increasing his speed, he swallowed as much of Aya as he could, lifting his free hand to cup the swordsman's balls, full and tantalizingly shaved. They must have been sensitive, because Aya whimpered again thrusting up into Yohji's mouth. The blonde took it like a pro, feeling the tap at the back of his throat and squeezing Aya's sac to make him do it again.

"Please…I need …"

Reluctantly, Yohji let Aya's cock slip from his mouth.

"Scoot forward, baby," he directed, pulling Aya's butt to the edge of the seat, guiding his feet up to hook his heels over the edge of the trim so that his open knees pointed skyward and he was totally revealed to as he leant back to rest his elbows on the Seven's consol. Yohji's right hand went back to Aya's cock, desperately hard and slick with Yohji's saliva; he stroked it, slowly now.

"Yohji!"

"Shhh, I got you." His left hand he brought to his mouth, quickly sucking in two fingers before slipping then back, behind Aya's balls to press against his hole. It was tight, and Aya hissed when Yohji's middle finger pressed inside. "Okay?"

Before he could answer, Yohji twisted his left hand, finger pressing Aya's prostate and causing him to jump forward, forcing his throbbing cock further into the waiting hand. His whole body was a tangle of overwhelming pleasures, and Yohji continued the assault, bringing his lips back to the weeping head of Aya's erection as his finger fucked his ass, touching the over sensitive spot with every shift of Aya's hips.

"Can't," he gasped, struggling forward to stare at Yohji between his own spread knees. He was flushed and panting, mostly naked with his pants around his ankles and his shirt pushed up under his armpits. Yohji couldn't resist reaching up for a kiss; it was wet and long, and he felt Aya moan into his mouth as he worked the man's pulsing cock. He pulled away, breathless.

"Yohji . . . uhn, hurts . . . need to come." Yohji stared as his eyes closed and he clenched his teeth together against the pleasure-pain edge that threatened to take him under.

"Wanna see you, Aya" he pleaded. Quickly he dropped a kiss to the knee nearest his head, but immediately turned his eyes back to Aya's face, unwilling to miss a moment of the man's approaching abandon. "Come."

With those words, he lowered his mouth once more to Aya's length, taking all of it in. Then he used his teeth, gently scraping against the hot flesh as he pulled back while he pressed his fingers in, deep and hard.

Aya's breath caught, he held tight to blond hair and with one last thrust, he came in the waiting mouth, spilling his warm semen onto Yohji tongue as he spasmed with sweet release. Before Yohji could swallow, and he was going to, Aya dropped his heels to the pavement and rocked forward to kiss him, sweeping his come out of Yohji's mouth and into his own before he gently disconnected their lips. There was a little smile on his face as he rested his forehead against Yohji's and licked his lips.

Carefully, Yohji withdrew his fingers from under Aya's bottom; he settled his hands once more on Aya's naked thighs. He could have stayed there, crouched on the wet ground, tasting Aya, with the redhead leaning heavily against him, but they were on the edge of sleep, and Aya was half naked in a public parking lot.

With considerable effort, he drew back, a hand cautiously on Aya's chest in case he failed to hold himself up. It turned out to be a good idea. It took a few tires, but they got Aya's pants back up, if not fastened. And with some maneuvering, Yohji arranged them both in the reclined passenger seat of the Seven. He was on his back, with Aya mostly on top of him, slack and sated and breathing softly against Yohji's neck while the blonde's fingers ran through sweat-damp strands of red.

"Yohji?"

"Hm?"

A hand curled tighter in the fabric of his shirt, but he couldn't make out the sleepy words.

~tbc~

Evil Hentai Slug: *enters full bishie mode wearing sinfully tight black vinyl and carrying a whip* Don't make me use it, reader. On your knees! Now review! Good reader . . . now, let's just put this collar—

Miko: *rushes in with newspaper*

Voiceover Guy II (Jim's sexy replacement): And so, the battle began…where will the newspaper land? Who will end up in the collar? Who will review and get the bonus track?


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